


Meraki

by mayghaen17



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Edible Body Paint, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Former Flames, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Muggle college, Mutual Pining, Not Quite Enemies to Lovers, Oral Sex, Post War, Secret Relationships, Theomione, Unrequited Love, artist hermione, not quite friends to lovers, nude models
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayghaen17/pseuds/mayghaen17
Summary: Meraki; a Greek word used to describe what happens when you leave a piece of yourself (your soul, creativity, or love) in your work. When you love doing something, anything, so much that you put something of yourself into it. That is exactly what happens when Hermione is reacquainted with a former Hogwarts classroom. A reunion that leaves her as the canvas for a change.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott
Comments: 5
Kudos: 93





	Meraki

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha love to honeysweetcutie / forever unbeta'd
> 
> Fancast for Theo is Ben Bowers

**Meraki**

With each stroke of her brush against the canvas, Hermione felt the tension ease from her shoulders. It still amazed her how creating art could do that. It was why she made sure to take at least one creative course every semester. She didn't care if it prolonged her degree. She loved learning. In fact, the longer she stayed in school, the better she felt. Especially since she had returned to Muggle education after the war had been won. She had realized how far behind she was in the Muggle world since she had left it in favor of a Magical education at Hogwarts. She'd spent the last four years playing catch up and there were times she felt as though she would never catch up.

But not here. Not with just as much paint on her skin as the canvas in front of her. Not with fifteen other people all capturing their renditions of today's subject.

Her gaze flickered towards the center of the room where that subject sat. She was glad that her blush had stopped appearing every time she looked at it. At _him_. Today's subject was a nude, male model. It wasn't their first time painting a human subject, but it was the first time the model had disrobed completely. Hermione was just glad she wasn't the only one in the room who blushed like a teenager. Nor was she the only one who gawked for a bit either. But just as with everything else in life, the novelty wore off and after the first few strokes of her brush, all other thoughts were pushed to the side.

These were her favorite moments. The ones where she lost herself in her work. Where she thought of nothing else but which colors would make the one she wanted or which stroke would give her the right shape. Creating was akin to breathing; both of which she needed to live.

Time always seemed to pass far too quickly after she got into the zone. Whenever the instructor called for them to put down their brushes and begin cleaning up, Hermione had to force herself to stop. She always took a few extra minutes while others made a mad dash to clean up and get out. She had made sure to not schedule anything else after her art classes. Occasionally that earned her extra studio time, but with today's subject, she doubted that would be an option.

Still, she took her time cleaning her station and getting her things back in order. So lost in her own mind with what else she had to do that day, she hadn't realized that everyone had left. Everyone except for her and the model. She jumped when she saw him standing before he canvas, fully clothed as he checked out her rendition of himself.

"You're really talented," he mused, eyes still glued to the painting.

Hermione's blush returned, searing her cheeks as she tidied up her station. "Thank you."

When she looked up, she did a double take at the amusement in his eyes. He was looking at her then and for a second, he seemed familiar, but she couldn't place why or how. As it was, she couldn't help the way her eyes strayed down his chest or the way her mind conjured up the body underneath the clothes. After all, she had just been staring at it for over an hour.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Hermione's gaze snapped up to him, her lips parting with the intention of saying that she didn't, but it happened again. There was something about his eyes that sparked a distant memory. One of stolen kisses in the Hogwarts library. Of wandering hands and breathy moans; both his and hers. She gasped as her eyes widened.

` "Theo?" Her eyes wandered over him again, trying to combine the boy she remembered from long ago with the man that stood before her. It was the humor glistening in the hazel of his eyes that made her flush, having realized she was openly ogling him. Again. "Sorry," she muttered. "You just… I didn't recognize you."

"Makes sense," he said with a chuckle. "We never exactly made it this far."

She paused, her skin catching fire.

"Oh gods, I'm-"

But before she could make an excuse to slip away, he asked, "Will you let me buy you a drink? We can catch up."

She hesitated to answer one way or another. She didn't work the next day, nor did she have plans with anyone, so there was no reason to decline his offer other than her nerves getting the best of her. Shaking it off, she nodded. "This won't be weird for you?"

"This isn't the first time I've taken this sort of gig, Hermione. I'm used to people staring," he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Though it's been awhile since I've seen you look at me like that."

She swallowed hard and offered yet another nervous smile. "I could definitely use a drink."

He grinned and beckoned her to follow him with a nod of his head. "I know just the place."

And after a quick look back at the painting she had started, she grabbed her belongings. She wondered how she could have been staring at him for the past hour and not realize who he was. Or how long it had taken him to figure out who she was. With a shake of her head as other memories resurfaced, she closed the door to the studio behind her and followed him out.

One of the great things about living in a college town was that there was never a bar more than a few steps away. So it wasn't long before they were being seated at one and ordering their first round of drinks. When they were alone, Theo leaned back in his chair and smirked at her. "Since when do you paint?"

"Since when do you model in the nude?" she returned.

"Touche," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I asked first."

She smirked back at him and nodded. "Turns out that being creative is the outlet I needed to deal with what happened. It helps more than anything else I've tried."

"I heard you left the wizarding world behind," he said.

"Seems I wasn't the only one."

He inclined his head, but didn't say anything right away as their server returned with their drinks.

"After the war, the Ministry seized nearly everything attached to the Nott name. The only thing I walked away with was a trunk full of clothes, a few of my mother's items I'd been able to stash away throughout the years, and the ability to say I was never a Death Eater." He paused to take a drink and shrugged off her look of sympathy. "Even if they hadn't taken everything, I was planning on leaving anyway. They just made it easier for me. I've always wanted to see the world; it was the push I needed."

"So being a nude model is how you've made a living?" she asked, unable to keep the shock from her voice.

He chuckled again which only made her frown. "Not at first. I did a lot of odd jobs considering I didn't know much about the Muggle world. I did the things no one else wanted to and it wasn't long before I found what worked and what didn't. Being a model is something I've only done a handful of times. It pays well." He tapped his glass and tilted his head to the side. "Why did you leave?"

She sighed as she thought about repeating this story again. At least it was just Theo and not someone desperate for gossip. "I felt as though a part of me were missing since I exchanged one form of education for another. I didn't want to work for a system that had no real intentions of changing and I wanted to get out of the spotlight. I didn't want to take one of the jobs being offered solely because of my role in the war. A war most of them tried to tell me would never happen."

He nodded as he sipped his drink, but there was something in the way he stared at her that let Hermione know what his next question would be. "How did Ron take the news?"

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking. "Ron stayed with Harry. They're Aurors now; have been for a bit." As she raised her glass to her lips, she added, "And no, Ron and I aren't together. Nor have we ever been."

She could see in Theo's hazel eyes that he was recalling more of their moments in the library. The same moments she herself were remembering just then. All the times he let her take her frustrations at Ron out on him. Of the way he didn't care that she was jealous of Lavender and used Theo to make Ron jealous in return. Not that that ever worked seeing as how no one ever knew about Hermione's clandestine meetings with Theo. Especially since they never escalated between make-out sessions and heavy petting.

Seeing him naked as the subject for her canvas earlier had truly been the first time she had seen him that way.

He had been a great distraction from everything going on in Sixth Year. But with everything that happened afterwards, she had almost forgotten about it entirely. Guilt flared through her mind and she cast her eyes down to her half-empty glass.

Theo grinned, but didn't comment. Instead, he asked, "Is it just painting or are there other types of art you enjoy?"

Slowly, she looked back up at him and smiled in return. "Painting is my favorite, I think. Photography was fun. Ceramics was a disaster," she said with a chuckle. "You should see some of the horrendous items I kept."

"Proof that Hermione Granger _doesn't_ excel at everything?" he teased. "Count me in."

The laugh they both engaged in was enough to melt away the last of the awkward tension between them. By the time they finished a few round of drinks and a couple appetizers, Hermione was grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with Theo. And as they took their leave of the bar, she found herself not quite ready to part ways from him.

"So when can I see these failures of yours?" he asked as they lingered on the sidewalk outside the bar. "Or were you planning on making me wait until after I'm not longer the subject of your latest creation?"

"I don't live far from here if you don't mind a short walk."

He shook his head and offered her his arm as he said, "Lead the way."

It really was a short walk; taking them about fifteen minutes to get to her flat. He let go of her arm in favor of climbing the narrow staircase behind her all the way to the fourth floor. When she closed the door behind him, she gestured around at the various pieces scattered around along with her books. "Unless you've tried pottery, you don't get to laugh too much," she chided as he flocked to what was supposed to be a vase, but had too long a neck and not enough of an opening.

As he reached for it, she moved towards her bed on the opposite side of the room. It was mostly obscured by a folding privacy screen she had painted ages ago. SInce it was only her, she didn't need more than a studio. And since this one had perfect light for when the creative mood struck, it was mostly dedicated to art. The walls that weren't lined with overflowing bookshelves housed all sorts of supplies so she could create whatever she wanted at a moment's notice.

Regardless, she heard his laughter echo throughout the room as she set her things down on top of a bench beneath the window next to her bed. "Was this the first attempt?" he asked.

She snorted. "As if I'm going to divulge that."

He continued to chuckle as he moved from one creation to the next. When she emerged from behind the screen, he was staring at her latest canvas. She had only painted the whole thing midnight blue and added the stars before taking a break to read earlier that afternoon. She had barely had enough time to cap her paints before hurrying off to her class where he had been standing in the center, wearing nothing but a robe.

"Can I ask you something?"

He nodded as he turned to look at her. "Of course."

"How do you do...that? Model, I mean," she said, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "Isn't it weird to have people staring at you like that?"

He rubbed at his chin for a second and then shook his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. For the most part, it isn't sexual, although there are _always_ exceptions." The grin he flashed her made her swallow hard, but try as she might, she couldn't look away. "If anything, I've never felt more confident than when I'm posing for someone else. I really enjoy seeing other people's perspectives of myself."

She cleared her throat. "I could never do that."

"No?" he questioned, taking a step closer. "I think you would be an excellent subject for a painting."

A nervous laugh bubbled past her lips and she tore her gaze from his. "I highly doubt that."

Hermione felt the shift in the air between them and knew he what his next words would be as he asked, "Would you like to try?"

She was slow to meet his gaze again; her expression guarded. "Theo-"

"It's only fair, seeing as how I modeled for you," he interrupted, his eyes flashing with amusement and challenge.

Hermione hadn't felt that familiar surge of bravery in a long time that it almost took her by surprise as she said, "Okay." His eyes darkened as her hands came up to unbutton her shirt, but she stopped before threading the first one through the loop. "I didn't watch you get undressed," she said playfully.

"To be fair, you did watch me disrobe, but if it makes you feel better," he replied as he grinned and turned around.

She flushed again as she recalled the way her eyes had dropped along with his robe at the beginning of class. Of the way she had spent entirely too much time scanning him with her eyes. Granted, it had been for the purpose of figuring out where to start, but if she brought that up, he was sure to suggest otherwise. Then again...a small part of her had really just been appreciating the fine lines of everything he had to offer.

With each button she undid, she began to tremble more and more. Each article of clothing that pooled to her feet brought a new memory to the forefront of her mind. Of all the times they had met in the library, only once had his hands wandered up beneath her shirt. Even now, her skin flushed where the ghost of his touch had once been. She had often wondered what it would have been like to take it to the next level with him. If he would have laid her out on the table among their study material. Or maybe he would have drawn her over his lap on the chair. Perhaps he would have pressed her up against the stacks and made the books fall around them as he took her.

By the time she was stripped bare, the air of her studio felt like ice against the heat of her skin.

And when she called his name for him to turn around, it wasn't nerves that had her trembling; it was desire.

She shivered under the weight of his gaze and resisted the urge to cover herself as he took in the sight of her from head to toe. Without a word, he turned towards her paints and selected a few of them. She watched with awe as he charmed them to hover in the air once he removed their caps and followed him as he came to stand before her. It wouldn't matter if she lived to be a hundred; magic would never cease to fascinate her.

Hermione was dragged from her reverie as he reached out with purple fingertips aimed at her collarbone. "What are you doing?" she asked, stepping out of reach.

"Painting," he said, shrugging as if it were obvious.

"Theo-"

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, Hermione. Not once." She saw the way his eyes hardened as well as heard the seriousness in his voice. "I couldn't believe my luck at seeing you in that classroom earlier. While I _was_ disappointed that you didn't recognize me, it didn't stop me from making a move. I've wanted nothing more than to cross your path again and see about picking up where we left off."

"I think about you too," she admitted, keeping her eyes on his.

He flashed a dazzling smile as he nodded. "Good," he mumbled, lifting a brow. "Now will you let me create my masterpiece?"

Hermione took another step back as he lifted his hand again. "I put my paint on canvas; not you."

"Trust me, there is no better canvas than the body itself."

A thrill went through her at the idea of his hands on her once again. With a timid tilt of her head, she willed herself to relax and watched as he moved into position before her once more. She shivered as he brushed the tips of his fingers across her collarbone. The purple paint he left on her skin was cool to the touch. A small sigh escaped her lips as he continued to work his way across her body as she would a canvas. He worshiped her with every touch, but it was the parts of her body he left untouched that had Hermione's heart beating faster.

When he traced the path down the center of her chest for the fourth time, she couldn't hold back any longer. "Theo-"

But it seemed that he couldn't either as he reached up to cup her face and pull her forward; closing the distance between them so he could slant his lips over hers. If he didnt care about the paint on her body rubbing off on his clothes, Hermione decided she didn't care about the paint that stained her hair when his hand slid back to the nape of her neck. To solidify that point, she reached out and fisted the material of his shirt while pulling him closer still.

She moaned softly as his hands dropped to her sides and skimmed down the ladder of her ribs. He kept one hand on her hip as the other curved over her backside. She was sure the paint had mixed into a garish shade of brown on her skin, ruining his masterpiece, but she didn't care about that either. Not when the heat of his touch or the taste of his tongue against hers felt so right.

As if on cue, he bent down to lift her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her lips around him and squeezed as he carried her towards the bed. He set her down atop the mattress and pulled back with a groan so he could undress himself. Once he was as bare as she was, he lowered himself over her once more. The weight of him was perfect as he propped himself up on one elbow; his hand stroking her face as he kissed her with a vengeance. His other hand crept down to stroke the soft skin of one of her thighs that he was cradled between.

As his touch turned moved to the inside of her thigh, she pulled her mouth from his with a gasp. "The paint-"

"Magic," he murmured, nibbling at her jaw. "Not only is it edible, but I can do this," his fingers brushed through her folds, dragging up to circle her clit. "Muggles sell stuff like this in shops all the time, Hermione. I promise, it's not real paint anymore. It won't hurt you."

To attest to that claim, he picked up the pace at which he toyed with her, bringing forth a series of moans from her lips. To be fair, it didn't hurt at all. He grinned down at her a moment before he adjusted his position. His hand moved so he could place his thumb on her clit while his fingers slid effortlessly into his body. She arched into him; her head grinding against the pillows. Having already been worked up from his earlier touches, the moment his mouth wrapped around her nipple, she saw stars.

She cried out his name as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her system. He continued his ministrations, nearly pushing her into a second orgasm on the heels of her first. But she shoved him away long enough to cool down and flip them so he was beneath her instead.

As she kissed his way down his chest, she discovered that not only was the paint edible, but it was flavored as well. Having been mixed together, the combined flavor was mostly sweet, but good nonetheless. Every time her gaze flickered up, she found his staring intensely down at her. As she approached the neat trail of hair beneath his belly button, her hand wrapped around his cock, making him shiver. With a grin, she settled in between his thighs and leaned in to take him into her mouth.

He wasted no time in sinking his fingers into her hair and pull it out of the way. She sweetness of the paint was quickly overpowered by the masculine taste that was uniquely Theo. A taste she would admit freely that she preferred. Her hand moved in tandem with her mouth, working him to the point where she could feel him pulsing with need along her tongue. But instead of finishing down her throat, he pulled her off of him with a _pop_ and guided her up until she was straddling his lap.

With one hand firmly on her hip; the other coming up to fondle her breasts in turn, Hermione reached between them and lined his cock up with her entrance. Between her mouth having just been on him and the slick desire that had collected between her thighs since recognizing him at the art studio, he slid inside of her with no resistance. They both moaned as she sank down on him slowly; allowing them to feel every adjustment her body made to accommodate their union.

Hermione rotated her hips once she was ready and found a steady rhythm that worked for both of them. As she continued to ride him from above, she tipped her head back. He brought his other hand up so he could palm her breasts equally; pinching and plucking the pebbled skin of her nipples at the same time. She placed his hands over his, using him to steady herself as she increased the pace of her gyration.

"Fuck," he hissed as his hips rose up to meet hers. "This is much better than what I imagined."

Hermione's chuckle dissolved into a moan as he dropped a hand to rub at her clit again. His name fell from her lips like a mantra as she lost her rhythm entirely and shattered around his cock.

When she came down from her high, she found herself on her back with Theo thrusting into her at a leisurely pace to extend her pleasure. When the fog of her mind cleared a bit, he leaned in to capture her lips. Her legs wrapped around his waist; her heels digging into his backside. Her nails scraped up and down the length of his back as he focused on hitting hard and deep rather than as fast as he could.

"I'm gonna come," he murmured as his lips moved to her ear.

"Come for me," she pleaded; her voice more of a whine than anything else.

It only took a few more strokes, but when Hermione came next, Theo was too. They were molded together every which way. She wasn't sure where she ended and he began. She could feel his cock pulsing as her inner walls clenched at him, drawing every last drop of his release as far into her body as she could. There was also the beat of his heart that she felt over her own. The only sound that could be heard was their panting as they caught their breath.

When their breathing had returned to normal, he captured her lips again, savoring the taste of her kiss until he softened and slipped out of her. As he rolled onto his side, Hermione whispered a spell to clean them up. Once the magic took effect, she settled into his embrace and sighed; a smile on her face.

"So...will this stuff wash off easily?" she asked.

"With magic, sure," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "Or we could jump in the shower and see if that works."

Hermione's grin widened as she nodded and sat up. As they moved into the bathroom and initiated round two beneath the stream of water in her shower, Hermione realized she was the happiest she had been in years. Judging from what he had said earlier as well as the unhurried way they worshiped one another through the night, she didn't think he was going anywhere. As far as the future was concerned, there was no rush, but she was certain he would be a part of hers for quite some time.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join my FB Group: madrose_writing
> 
> I just hit 200 members so I'm taking suggestions for how we celebrate!


End file.
